The following excerpt is quoted from Sarah Bessey’s post “Being Brave Together” – the whole of which is well-worth checking out; thanks to A well traveled woman for first making me aware of it (which is also, by the way, well-worth checking out):
In the moments when we wonder why we bother, when we feel futile and small and ridiculous, when we feel misunderstood and mischaracterized, when we are paying a price, it’s in those moments that we learn the truth about being brave: it doesn’t always feel good.
Everyone likes to talk about being fearless…we hang prints up in our homes about courage, we talk about brave people or follow them on social media until we somehow make ourselves believe that we ourselves are somehow brave.
I think we like to talk a lot about being brave because the actual doing of it is so freaking terrifying. And tiring. And ordinary.
It’s my belief that true fearlessness comes from living loved. When we find our worth and our value in Christ, then, as the Psalmist wrote, what can man do to us? I don’t think we can be a people-pleaser or an approval-addict AND be brave with our lives. Perhaps that’s why fearlessness or bravery starts with our identity first, it’s the deep well from which we draw living water, enough for today.
I believe that bravery is born in the quiet and ordinary moments long before it’s seen by anyone else.Sometimes it’s as simple and devastating as the moments no one else will ever see – the moments of daring to be honest with our own self, of laying down our excuses or justifications or disguises, of asking ourselves what we really want, of forgiveness, of honesty, of choosing the hard daily work of restoration, of staying resolutely alive when every one else is just numbing themselves against life. These are why our friends matter so deeply: they are witness to the sacred secrets. Not all secrets are terrifying things, some of them are beautiful and transformative.
Together makes us braver.
I am surrounded by interesting and dangerous women.
They are being brave with their own lives and so, because I am alongside of them, I am learning to be brave, too.
It’s a risk. Don’t let anyone tell you differently. There is a price to pay, a cost to be counted. Reorienting your life around what you believe about God and what it means to be truly human and believing every small life or act of justice matters comes with a cost. We are counting that cost. And it’s worth it. Every time. Even when we’re wrong, even when we screw up, even when we sink beneath the waves and find ourselves scrambling back to the boat, licking our wounds, being brave together is worth it. It means we get to try again. Together.
This is a longer excerpt than I originally intended, and yet I was tempted to include nearly the whole thing! (I don’t think that would be quite fair to Ms. Bessey, though…as it is, I probably already over-indulged.) Please go check out the whole post on her website – there are a few more paragraphs than I’ve quoted here that I think are really fabulous.